


dr. feelgood

by punktaekai (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/punktaekai
Summary: The hallway is dark when Jongin pushes the door open. It unnerves Jongin slightly - it's not abnormal for the lights in the main entrance to be off this time, but Jongin can see that there isn't a single room that has light illuminating around the closed door frames. Taemin has a comeback this month, he's meant to be practicing and filming so the fact that he isn't even awake yet makes the anxiety flood back to Jongin's muscles. A quick glance at the alarm tells him that Taemin didn't even set it when he got home yesterday.Something is definitely wrong.--tags omitted due to spoilers but no triggering content is present
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Lee Taemin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91





	dr. feelgood

Jongin gets out of practice just gone four in the morning and cracks his neck, groaning as the flooding relief as the tension finally breaks. He stretches, wincing as his elbow cracks and sighs softly. He turns his phone on, waiting by the doors to the building, checking his messages before he decides where to go.   
  
Either he's heading back to the dorms with the other few members of EXO who were practicing this late or he's heading to Taemin's - and he just wants to know where he's going.  
  
At four in the morning, Jongin didn't expect to have any messages from Taemin at this hour but as his phone beeps to show him no new messages, he didn't expect to have no contact from Taemin throughout the day at all. Jongin stares at his phone for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. No contact from Taemin is strange, so likely, something's wrong. Either his phone broke, or he's been too busy. But on the other hand, he'd normally tell Jongin it was all clear to come visit, to stay the night and to spend time together. Going around without Taemin saying it was good was something of a faux pas in their relationship.   
  
Jongin pushes his anxieties down and calls for an Uber, marking Taemin's house as his destination. He shouldn't go round without Taemin telling him yes or no, but it's too weird that Taemin hasn't said a word all day to him. Either they're fighting and Jongin doesn't know it yet, or something isn't right.  
  
He waits, chewing his lip anxiously as he looks for his driver, nerves starting to prickle his goosebumps, the feeling of something being wrong knotting the muscles in his back. His fingers twitch over the handle of his gym bag, carrying his practice clothes that desperately need a wash. His body is cool and sticky in the night air from the staff entrance door that's pushed open, taking too long to close as the self-closing mechanism stops it slamming shut on anyone as they walk through. Idols getting ready for early morning recording, backing dancers leaving after a day of music video preparation, all of them nod in a blur of people as Jongin waits, peering outside once more.  
  
He slips outside, following one of TVXQ's dancers as she hops out into the night breeze, seemingly unphased by the temperature, still in her tiny shorts for shooting. His phone has buzzed, telling him his ride is there and Jongin spots them pulling into the pick up and drop off point. He doesn't even remember walking towards it as he pulls the door open and slips inside. The warmth that prickles his skin is well welcomed and he leans against the leather seat.  
  
"Your name, Sir?"  
  
"Jongin."  
  
"Going to Sajik-ro-3-gil number 47?"  
  
"That's the one. As quick as you can, please."  
  
"Of course, Sir."  
  
The driver falls silent as he begins their route and Jongin lets out a small breath. He unlocks his phone, opening his dialler app and selecting the most recently contacted number. Taemin's phone goes straight to voicemail and Jongin hangs up, before letting his hand drop into his lap.  
  
As the nerves in his stomach turn from a few fleeting feelings to a nest of snakes, Jongin decides to turn his head toward the city outside his window, watching it's beauty as the ride goes on. Street vendors are beginning to set up their stalls for the five am morning work rush, the clubs help their drunken patrons outside and call people for them. Even at... 4.27am, according to his phone, Seoul is still lit up like a Christmas tree.  
  
Jongin remembers his and Taemin's first date, when they were shy teenagers, barely able to look at each other without blushing and trying to find anything in the immediate area to stare at. They'd avoided the day light where paparazzi lurked around every corner, opting to go for a three am stroll across one of the main Seoul bridges, just talking. Getting to know each other more was their main interest; as friends already, they knew more about each other than maybe their own groups did. But there was still more to discover, more to learn if they were to do anything with the feelings that they had begun to harbor for one another.  
  
Jongin spots one sign in particular and smiles, his chest warming. Taemin had pointed to the sign that night, declaring he would have a small house by it, lit up by the purple, greens and blues of the neon sign pointing people to their local bar. It was the bar he and SHINee celebrated Taemin's coming of age at, where EXO had celebrated their first win at - the bar is so ingrained in their lives - both personal and work. Taemin's eyes were alive with excitement as he had discussed it, prompting Jongin to lean in and press a kiss to his lips. Taemin had jumped, like a cat hearing a loud bang for the first time, but leaned into it, tempting Jongin to hold him close, hands tight on his waist.   
  
Jongin is jerked from his memory, freezing up slightly as a voice cuts through, his driver telling him that they'd arrived. Jongin grabs his bag from his lap, giving a quick thank you as he hops out. He pushes Taemin's much too ornate gates open and shuts it, making sure to lock the latch before making his way to the door. He knocks, slightly quieter than usual, hoping that if Taemin is asleep it won't wake him up. He waits for three minutes exactly, counting the seconds on his phone before he digs his key out of his practice bag and inserts it into the lock. If Taemin doesn't answer the door in three minutes, he's either busy, asleep or... _something else_ .  
  
Jongin pushes down the forbidden thoughts of _anything else that isn’t normal_ and refuses to give them space in his mind. A shiver goes through him as his subconscious brings back images from horror films, stories of idols in his company getting caught in cat and mouse games with anti fans and sasaengs. Jongin shakes his head, firmly, and pushes the door open.  
  
The hallway is dark when Jongin pushes the door open. It unnerves Jongin slightly - it's not abnormal for the lights in the main entrance to be off this time, but Jongin can see that there isn't a single room that has light illuminating around the closed door frames. Taemin has a comeback this month, he's meant to be practicing and filming so the fact that he isn't even awake yet makes the anxiety flood back to Jongin's muscles. A quick glance at the alarm tells him that Taemin didn't even set it when he got home yesterday.   
  
Something is definitely wrong.  
  
Jongin strains his ears to hear anything. The creaking of the house as the heating kicks in startles him, causing him to look around, nervous. Over the piping and the floorboards, a familiar sound reaches Jongin's ears - Taemin's groans.  
  
Jongin has an initial sigh of relief, his muscles finally untensing before an unforbidden thought hits him - why is Taemin groaning.  
  
Insecurity takes residence in his stomach as he thinks about how Minho was just given vacation time from the military, how Taemin used to talk about having a crush on his hyung when they were younger.  
  
Maybe, he's been hurt - someone broke into his home and Taemin is clinging to life, praying someone will find him and help him. Maybe he fell over, smacked his head on something and can't move.   
  
The thoughts fill Jongin's head as he rushes forward, tripping over a pair of Taemin's shoes, managing to keep his balance. The sound of the soles of his own trainers echo around the hallway as he rushes, not caring about etiquette to take them off - this could be an emergency and he likely has limited time.   
  
Jongin gets to the end of the hallway, lurching to the right to look at the door to Taemin's room - the door is open, barely pushed shut and Jongin can see he's alone.  
  
That's one concern ticked off his list.   
  
A quick glance shows that Taemin is in bed, covers pulled up to his shoulders. He's not fallen over and hurt himself. The white sheets Taemin is so fond of show no sign of staining, nor any traces of blood that Jongin can see.  
  
He can breathe, and lets out a soft pant of relief as he catches his breath from the adrenaline rush.  
  
Jongin toes his shoes off and leaves them by the door as he walks in. "Tae?"  
  
"Nini?"  
  
Taemin's words are labored, panted breaths following. Concern racks Jongin's body as he steps towards the bed. He goes to sit down before realizing the bed covers are... moving. His brows furrow and he peers closer to see where he would usually sleep is covered in tissues. An empty toilet roll holder is taking residency on Jongin's pillow and a Kleenex box is sat where Jongin's head should be.  
  
"Cuddles."  
  
"What's wrong?" Jongin carefully sheds his trousers. "I need a shower so I might not be the best cuddle buddy, right now."  
  
"Flu."  
  
Jongin sighs softly and slips in behind Taemin, wrapping an arm around his waist and puts his other hand under the pillow, bracing Taemin's head. "You get it in Europe?"  
  
"Think so."  
  
Jongin presses a kiss to the back of Taemin neck, feeling how sweaty it is. "You're so hot, let's get rid of some of these blankets-"  
  
"-Cold. Cold. Cold."  
  
Jongin makes a noise in his throat and holds Taemin to his chest. "Alright, but I'm telling you, you're a furnace."  
  
Taemin doesn't reply, chest barely raising against Jongin's hold. Jongin doesn't say anything, just cradles Taemin as tightly against himself as he dares and hums gently under his breath. Taemin shifts slightly, moving his head as though to hear him better and Jongin smiles softly. He moves his hand, pushing the hair stuck to Taemin's forehead to sit atop his head and watches him as he gently falls off. 

* * *

Jongin jolts upright at the sound of someone banging on the door, confused. He's not sure why someone's knocking for Taemin at what must be about five in the morning, but a glance at the window says that the sun has long risen - Jongin must have fallen asleep. The knocking happens again and Taemin groans, shifting and burying himself under the covers.   
  
Jongin stumbles out of the bed, sliding his feet across the floorboards before falling over. He gets back up, noticing he must have pulled one of his socks off in his sleep and opts for the safer route of lifting his heavy feet to walk to the door. He pulls it open just enough to peer outside, nervous it might be someone who isn't... aware of him and Taemin only to relax at the sight of Taemin's manager.  
  
"Jongin! Taemin didn't tell me you were staying over last night."  
  
"Ah, it was unplanned. He didn't contact me so I came round worried, he's in bed with the flu."  
  
His manager lets out a breath, seeming annoyed at the news but nods. "Alright, that explains why he hasn't been contacting me and is so late to his photo shoot. I'll cancel his schedules for a few days and let marketing know so they can change the dates for his album around. Is he alright in there?"  
  
"Very whiny, very snotty by the amount of tissues I'd say, and... no, he's basically a toddler. I've got him, don't worry, not my first rodeo with the monster known as a sick Taemin."  
  
Taemin's manager bursts into laughter and shakes his head. "You have my number, right?"  
  
Jongin nods, stifling a yawn.  
  
"Contact me if anything comes up. I'll leave Taemin in your... unfortunately capable hands."  
  
Jongin laughs softly and waves, making sure the manager locks the gate on his way back out before stepping back into the hallway and locking the front door. He makes his way back to the bedroom, noticing the mess around the house - Taemin's suitcase from the SuperM tour is still half unpacked in front of the utilities room. Jongin takes a moment to realise he's really not surprised he fell the night before and he's thankful he didn't get hurt tripping over anything else that he managed to leap over in his sprint.  
  
He sighs and peers back into the bedroom. Taemin's drifted off to sleep again, back to the window with the curtains still open. Jongin remembers his own case of the flu; he knows how painful bright light is. He sighs, seeing the amount of used tissues over the bed, knocked onto the floor and he shakes his head. For the mess to be this bad, Taemin must have been holed up in bed for at least two days. Jongin's chest pangs as he heads to the kitchen to grab a trash bag - he really should have checked yesterday but Taemin had told him not to come and to go back to the dorms and sleep. Guilt festers slightly in his stomach as he shakes the bag open as quietly as he can before returning to the bedroom. He scoops handful after handful of tissues up, dumping them in the bag, wrinkling his nose and his hand remains wet once or twice.   
  
Once they've all been chucked into the trash, Jongin slips into the en suite, washing his hand as hard as he dares without breaking the skin before he returns to the bedroom. He pulls the curtains shut, leans down to press a kiss to the blond mop of hair just visible above the blanket, grabs the bag and shuts the door as he heads into the hallway.  
  
Jongin stares at the mess; there's days of mail at the letterbox, probably some parcels in the outer shed by the door, shoes all over, the suitcase, leaflets drifted up the corridor, probably from Jongin's sprint. There's scuff marks from Jongin's trainers which will need cleaning before Taemin gains some form of consciousness and rips him a new one for ruining his _just laid_ floors. There's probably a half hour's work to do here, and that's not counting the numerous closed doors that Jongin hasn't even thought about opening yet.   
  
"Alright, Jongin, just work as you walk. If you walk forward, you're gonna trip over the suitcase so, suitcase first."  
  
Jongin leaves the bag in the small alcove before Taemin's room and pushes the utility room door open. There's no waiting washing - of course, Taemin did it all before they went to Europe - which he's thankful for. He lifts the suitcase and places it on top of the dryer, opening the washer and peering at the clothes. He throws in Taemin's inhumane amount of white shirts, the few white boxers that are curled around the corners and gingerly picks up the socks Taemin wore on stage and when sightseeing. He's a dancer, he knows he'll boke if they get too close to his nose.  
  
He shuts the washer, loading the washing liquid and starting a cycle. Setting the suitcase on the ground, he carefully looks through what's left. He throws clothes to the side, making small piles of blacks, darks and colors to go in on other washes. He removes Taemin's toiletries bag and then zips the now empty suitcase closed.   
  
As quietly as he can, Jongin sneaks back into Taemin's room. He deposits the toiletry bag in the cupboard under the sink before slipping the closet door open and pushing Taemin's suitcase on the top shelf. The wheels make a large thud as they hit the back and he freezes. The feeling of eyes on him makes him shiver and he looks over his shoulder.  
  
Taemin is peering over the blanket, his head poking out enough that just his eyes are visible. Even through the now dark room, Jongin can see the way his deep brown eyes shine in annoyance. "Shut up."  
  
"Sorry, go back to sleep."  
  
Taemin grumbles and retreats under the blankets again and Jongin can't help but smile. He steps back and slowly shuts the closet door making sure it makes only the slightest noise possible before a disgruntled "get out!" chases him out the room. Jongin can't help a small laugh as he shuts the bedroom door again, shaking his head.   
  
He turns his attention back to the hallway and walks down it, collecting all the shoes that are littered around. He places them neatly on the shoe rack by the door and then unlocks it, checking the shed. There's one parcel and he slots it under his arm before heading back inside. He puts it on the hallway table, bending down to pick up the mail. He flicks through the envelopes, placing the ones of importance on top of the parcel before taking the spam with him through to the kitchen. They get chucked in the box of letters that need the address removing - in with what looks like three months worth - and heads for the sink. He finds the floor polish and a rag in the cupboard beneath and returns to the hallway.   
  
Jongin finds himself on his knees for about twenty minutes, scrubbing the scuffing his trainers left on the woodwork and he groans when he finally finishes. His joints crack when he stands up, making him wince and he stretches. The scent of chemicals and lemon fills the air and he wrinkles his nose turning to gently open the front door slightly, just enough to ensure there's a breeze to clear the smell before it seeps into Taemin's room.  
  
Jongin stretches a few more times before deciding to go for the living room; it's the only room with a television in the house, so Taemin might have holed up in there a few times before giving up and curling up in his room. Sure enough, when he opens the door, there are tissues littered all over the coffee table, a take out that Jongin assumes is two days old and a general mess of the cushions being all over the floor. Jongin retreats to grab the trash bag once more and makes quick work of throwing the trash out and throwing the cushions haphazardly back onto the couch. Taemin's practice room is as clean as it can be so Jongin heads back to the kitchen.  
  
He sweeps bundles of tissues off the counter tops into the bag and finds the disinfectant, giving them a good spray down. He scrubs until his elbow starts clicking, making sure any germs that could re-infect Taemin have disappeared and then ties the trash bag. He takes the almost full box of recycling with him, toeing the front door open to drop it all into the correct bins. He has to pause for a moment, reminding himself of when Taemin's bins get emptied - his bins get emptied today but Taemin's won't be emptied till Thursday. Jongin nods, content that he doesn't have to struggle the wheeled bins down Taemin's gravel driveway and heads back inside.   
  
The scent of chemical lemon has filtered out of the hallway enough for the front door to be shut and locked again. Jongin opts to open a kitchen window since the mint disinfectant is still strong in there and the remnants of the lemon will be coaxed out by the wind.  
  
A quick look at the clock says that it's approaching lunch time. Jongin blinks a little, confused as to how long he slept and how long he was working. Food. He needs food. He peers into Taemin's cupboards to find bags of rice, pasta and sauces. There's a bag of noodles that Jongin can use for ramen but a quick peek into the fridge tells him he won't be having vegetables today unless he goes shopping.   
  
Jongin rolls his eyes. "Of course he doesn't have any rotting food in here, he lived with Kibum for years."   
  
Jongin sighs and stares at the wall that's connected to Taemin's bedroom. His jeans and wallet are in there.   
  
He grimaces and braces himself as he walks to the bedroom door. He peers in - Taemin is seemingly asleep. Jongin tip toes, gentle and careful as he walks across the room. He's about half way to the leg of his pants that are poking around the bed frame before Taemin surges up with the grace of a mountain lion. "What the hell?"  
  
Jongin jumps out of his skin and almost lands flat on his face. "I just need my jeans and wallet. You need food. I thought I was being silent, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."  
  
Taemin leans forward, rubbing his face. The ferocity in his frame is gone, and he's shivering. "I'm thirsty."  
  
"Okay, let me just put my jeans on and then I'll grab you a drink, okay?"  
  
Taemin nods, curling in on himself.  
  
Jongin reaches his jeans and wastes no time shoving his legs into the holes. "Do you have any cold or flu pills?"  
  
"No." Jongin's heart aches at how miserable he sounds.  
  
"Alright, I'll get some when I go shopping."  
  
Taemin doesn't reply, not moving from the fetal position he's sat in. Jongin rushes back to the kitchen and grabs a glass from the draining board. He fills it, making sure the water is cold enough to soothe Taemin's sore throat, but not cold enough to irritate it before he returns to the bedroom. He sits next to Taemin and gently taps his knee.   
  
Taemin slowly looks up and struggles to hold his arm to take the water so Jongin shifts; he gently holds the rim of the glass to Taemin's lips, helping him gulp some of it down. They repeat it a few times in silence, till Taemin's drunk half the glass before Taemin suddenly bursts into tears. Jongin turns to place the water on the bedside table before he lifts Taemin into his lap, rocking him.  
  
"I hate this, I hate this, _I hate this_."  
  
"I know you do, I know. I know it sucks being sick. Let it out, I've got you, I've got you."  
  
"My comeback-" Taemin pauses to cough, struggling to draw breath between each hack that makes his entire body shake. "The fans are going to be so upset, I can't let them down."  
  
"You're not letting them down, Taeminnnie, you're not letting them down. They'd much rather you spend the time to get better so you can perform even better and feel good. You know they'd care much more about your health than the fact it's delayed for a few days."  
  
Taemin whines, burying his face in the crook of Jongin's neck. "I wanna dance."  
  
"You can't, not with your head right now."  
  
Taemin whimpers and Jongin presses a kiss to the top of his head. "Once you're better, we'll go do whatever dancing you want to do. Lock ourselves in the practice room for eight hours, go to a club, go to some class, whatever you want, but only if you rest up and get well, hm?"  
  
Taemin huffs slightly but nods before groaning. Jongin has to suppress a laugh, forcing himself to not sound like he's laughing at his boyfriend. Taemin doesn't say anything else so Jongin just holds him till the tears slowly stop and he falls asleep against his chest. Jongin waits a few minutes before gently depositing his boyfriend back in the bed, carefully wrapping the covers around him. He leans down to pick up his shoes and slips back out of the room, shutting the door before he gets dressed. He feels his back pocket, wallet definitely in place and then he grabs Taemin's reusable bags. Content that he has everything, he heads out, making a mental list of everything he needs to buy. 

* * *

When Jongin returns, he finds a bundle of blankets on the couch, messy hair sticking out over the arm of the chair. The living room clock tells him it took him an hour to get everything that Taemin would need and he winces a little.   
  
"Why are you out here?"  
  
Jongin puts the grocery bags down as an arm appears out of the blankets, pointing at the coffee table. Jongin's phone is sat there.  
  
"I'm going to kill Baekhyun when I next see him."  
  
Jongin puts two and two together; his phone must have fallen out of his pocket last night and Baekhyun must have been trying to find where Jongin was, vibrating on the floor and waking Taemin up.  
  
"Eight times that tiny little brat called."  
  
"I'm going to ignore that you just called mine and our fellow group mate a brat."  
  
"'s a brat."  
  
"He's older than me."  
  
"You're a good brat."  
  
Jongin scoffs and rolls his eyes as he picks up his phone, looking through his texts. He breezes over them before sending a quick message to the group chat to tell them where he is and that Taemin is sick before turning it off.   
  
"They won't call anymore, it's alright."  
  
Taemin makes a noise in his throat before coughing and Jongin pats the roundabout area that Taemin's hips are. "Come on, I got you your favorite little iced coffee box drink thing... I don't know what they're called, and some flu pills. They'll help take the edge off, sit up."  
  
Taemin groans and Jongin takes the time to get them out the bag. He reads the back of the box carefully before pushing two out of the blister pack and cracking open the seal so that Taemin can undo the lid of his drink. By the time he's done, Taemin is still unraveling himself from the nest of blankets he's created, struggling to get out. Jongin watches, amused, his lips quirked. It earns him a weak kick when Taemin finally struggles upwards, the corner of one blanket draped over his head and another wrapped around his chest. "Pills."  
  
"Ah ah, say sorry for kicking me first."  
  
Taemin's eyes turn to daggers and Jongin grins. Silence falls between them for a moment before Taemin exhales.  
  
"I'm sorry for kicking you."  
  
"I'll let it slide this once because you're sick."   
  
Taemin rolls his eyes as he takes the pills in Jongin's now extended hand before he throws them into his mouth. He winces as he swallows and takes the drink. He struggles to open it for a moment and Jongin goes to help him. Taemin jerks backwards slightly, managing to open it himself and taking long gulps. He leans forward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and sniffing a few times.  
  
"You cleaned my place?"  
  
"Yeah, there wasn't much."  
  
"You're washing my clothes."  
  
"Might as well so the suitcase could be put away."  
  
"What are you, my house-husband?"  
  
"I mean, if you want me to be."  
  
Taemin spits out the mouthful he'd just taken, coughing and hacking. Jongin surges forward with a laugh, rubbing his back.  
  
"That was- That was not a proposal."  
  
"I know, I'm just messing with you."  
  
"Dick."  
  
Jongin chuckles and settles on the couch. Taemin leans against him, the grumpiness from being so ill seeming to leave him for a moment.  
  
"I come into your house, I clean for you, I take care of you-"  
  
"-You wake me up a total of four times."  
  
"... I am not responsible for Baekhyun's actions."  
  
"You left your phone."  
  
"That's different."  
  
Taemin makes a noise and cuddles closer. "Stop talking. Head hurts."  
  
"One question."  
  
"Make it quick."  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
"Starving."  
  
"I'll make some ramen soon."  
  
Taemin makes a soft _mhm_ in his throat and falls silent. The uncapped drink in Taemin's hand starts falling and Jongin grabs it, saving Taemin's carpet from needing a deep clean. From how quiet and subtle Taemin's breathing has gone, Jongin has no doubt he's fallen asleep again. Carefully, Jongin manoverues himself off the couch and lays Taemin down, putting his drink on the coffee table.  
  
Jongin has no idea how the... pure _labyrinth_ of blankets Taemin has transported to the couch with him works. He tries to cover Taemin as best as he can but settles for just making sure a piece of blanket is covering all parts of Taemin before grabbing the shopping bags and moving into the kitchen.  
  
Jongin takes his time putting the groceries away, humming to a song locked in his subconscious before he focuses on the radio. He turns it on, switching the volume low enough that he can just hear it and dances around quietly as he prepares for ramen. He cuts vegetables, boils water, finds the sauces Taemin has in his cupboard. He recognises the opening of Obsession comes on and starts swaying his hips, singing under his breath and spins round as he begins a solo dance in the choreography to come face to face with Taemin looking terrified.  
  
It takes Jongin a moment to understand why Taemin looks scared out of his wits before realising he just spun round, merely a few feet apart, holding a knife up in the air. He blushes and points the knife at the radio. "Obsession was on."  
  
"Uh huh, I see."  
  
Taemin nods as if he _totally believes_ Jongin before he makes his way to the fridge and pulls it open, leaning on the door as he gets a cold bottle of water out. "You did my shopping?"  
  
"Can't have you locked up here in dying of flu with no food now, can I?"  
  
"You're right, who else would have you?"  
  
The usual teasing tone of Taemin's voice has returned; his cheeks have more color to them - he's still obviously sick, but he doesn't look like he's tottering towards death's door any more.  
  
"Okay, so admit it."  
  
Taemin raises his eyebrows at Jongin's challenge.  
  
"You weren't sick at all, you just missed your hyungs in the military and made a fuss so you could be babied." Jongin returns to the carrot he was chopping, grinning at Taemin.  
  
Taemin rolls his eyes, lips arching into a smile. "Oh no! Whatever will I do! You saw right through my plan!"  
  
Jongin laughs, finally scraping the carrot into the pan on the stove. "The pills kicked in then?"  
  
"A bit. My head still feels like someone's doing fucking construction work in it but the shivers and the stomach pains are gone."  
  
"Good, good. How long have I been cooking for?"  
  
"Mm, I woke up about half an hour ago and you've been in here since before then... no clue."  
  
Jongin shrugs and puts the knife and chopping board in the sink, adding the last few pieces to the sauce pan before putting the lid on it to let it simmer. He turns to watch Taemin dance to a song on the radio, arms and legs as graceful as ever. He jerks his head to the right, following the music's beat and stumbles, catching himself on the island.  
  
Jongin surges forward, hands on Taemin's hips in seconds. "You okay?"  
  
"I'm fine, I'm fine." Taemin waves him off. "Clean my kitchen."  
  
"Okay, Your _Majesty_."  
  
"Ah, you've finally learned my place in your life, huh?"  
  
Jongin tuts and gently smacks Taemin's ass as he walks by, sticking his tongue out. "If you look in that bag on the counter, there's some surprises in there for you."  
  
"Huh, I get treats? I need to be sick more often."  
  
Jongin snorts as he starts washing the few dishes that have accumulated in the sink, hearing Taemin's squealing as he uncovers his present from the bag.  
  
"You got me... Jongin this film is almost non existent? How the hell did you find it?"  
  
Jongin looks over his shoulder at Taemin's gleeful face as he stares at the DVD. It wasn't a film that Jongin was particularly looking forward to watching; Europe's worst horror film ever made, most controversial, goriest, you name it, banned from Asian shelves long before Taemin was even watching horror.  
  
"Jongin I've wanted to watch this since I was like 22 where the hell did you find it?"  
  
"Manager owed me a favour when he went to Italy. He managed to find a copy with Japanese subtitles. Wasn't one with Korean subs but." Jongin shrugged. "There's more in there."  
  
Taemin puts the DVD down and delves back into the bag, coming up with manga, the most recent releases from his favourite horror mangaka that he hadn't gotten a chance to go out and buy yet, some of his favorite American candies Jongin had sneaked back from the American leg of the SuperM tour.   
  
Jongin's pretty sure Taemin's going to explode, judging from the frequency he's squeaking and squealing at. Jongin shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. "You're going to make me watch that film the moment we've settled down with food, aren't you?"  
  
"You know me so well."  
  
Jongin laughs and shakes his head. "Go sit down, ramen's almost ready. I'll bring everything through."  
  
Taemin disappears, still squeaking here and there. Jongin chuckles and starts dishing up, ladling steaming hot ramen into bowls. He grabs four chopsticks and heads through to the living room, not surprised to find that Taemin has made half a blanket fort and the DVD is already in the player. He takes his bowl of ramen from Jongin, a small, thankful smile on his face.  
  
Jongin watches as Taemin immediately shoves noodles in his mouth, not bothering to let it cool. He's babbling about how many countries the film was banned in, how many scenes were reshot, and _oh no, skip this scene you have the remote they killed an actual animal in this I can't watch it skip, skip, Jongin skip it!  
  
_ Taemin doesn't make it through the film; their bowls are left on the coffee table as Taemin dozes back off in Jongin's lap, the pills starting to wear off and exhaustion catching up with him. Jongin doesn't bother to turn the film off, as disturbed as he already is, choosing instead to watch the peaceful expression on Taemin's face, stroking his hair gently. In the back of his mind, he knows he should carry Taemin to his room, relax in bed and fall asleep with him there - they'll both regret sleeping on the couch in the morning.  
  
But right now, Jongin shifts so Taemin is more comfortable on Jongin's chest, propped up enough so his nose doesn't block and lets himself drift off knowing Taemin feels safe, secure and comfortable.  
  
Sure, he'll be a whiny brat again tomorrow until the new batch of flu pills kick in but for moments like this, it's worth it.


End file.
